After
by Sarah1324
Summary: What happened to Annie, Johanna, Haymitch, Beetee, Mrs. Everdeen, Gale, Katniss, and Peeta after the rebellion? In this collection of short stories, you'll discover what they went on to do after Mockingjay. DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Hunger Games (no matter how much I wish I did). First fanfic, please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Annie**

He looks just like Finnick. Every time I look into little Finn's blue-green eyes, I lose myself. From the moment I first saw my little boy, he was a reminder that I'd lost the only person I'd ever loved. We were supposed to be happy.

"Mommy?" he would always say in his small voice, slamming me back to reality. "Mommy, are you okay?"

And I would always answer, "I'm fine, just daydreaming." I tried to be strong for him. Finnick would want that. But as Finn got older, he could see right through my lies. I tell myself everyday that it will get better sometime soon. That things will look up eventually. That it can't be bad forever. No wonder Finn doesn't believe me. I don't even believe myself.

They told me he died protecting the other rebels. A noble death, I suppose, but that doesn't stop me from missing him, from loving him. So after Finn was born, we left District 13 and returned to Four.

Today Finn is turning fourteen. I sit in bed for a long while before finally dragging myself up. How can Finnick have been gone for more than fourteen years? My body is racked with sobs. It is nearly impossible to muster up the motivation even stand up this morning, but I manage it. Our small house is quiet. I put fish on a plate with some eggs. Finn creeps into the kitchen almost silently. I assemble enough strength for a weak smile before encasing him in my arms. "Good morning," I say, dropping a kiss on his forehead. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks, Mom."

He looks up at me and the kitchen faded away. The sound of crashing waves and the wind fills my ears. I can feel the warm sand underneath my toes as I dance across the beach, Finnick pulling me towards the beautiful blue ocean. When we reach the water, the cold sea spills across my feet. He splashes me and I squeal. I chase after him, trudging through the water in my soaked dress. When I finally catch him, I jump into his arms and together we fall into the waves. I press my lips passionately to his. "I love you," Finnick says.

"I love you too."

"Mom?" another voice says and the memory dies away. His words still linger in my mind. But they weren't real, despite how real they felt. It was just a trance. Finnick is dead.

"Yes," I say, shaking my head. I blink, trying to fight back the tears that threaten to spill.

"Are you okay?" Finn asks.

"Yes. I'm fine."

Finn shakes his head. "I'm not a little kid anymore, Mom," he sighs. "I'm fourteen. I'm old enough to hear the truth."

He doesn't know much about his dad. He's never asked, and I've never told him. All he knows is that he was named after him. He has no idea where he is or why he hasn't been around for all of these years.

"Come with me," I say. Slowly I go into my bedroom and pulled out a book filled with photos. Finn sits next to me as I flip to the first page. There's a picture of Finnick, sitting on the beach, caught mid-laugh. "This is your father."

Finn gently, as if it would crumble, takes the book into his hands, turning through the pages. It's all I can do not to cry as I see the pictures of the two of us. There's one of us kissing on the beach, making sandcastles, the two of us dancing at our wedding. The last one is of Finnick, touching the small bump of my belly and smiling.

Finn sits there in silence for a while. Finally he says, "He's dead, isn't he?"

I nod. "He died protecting the rebels, so they could escape and complete their mission," I tell him. "You remind me of him so much." I can feel a tear streaming down my cheek. It hurts to think about him.

"Mom," he said. "You don't have to do this, it's-"

"No," I say firmly. "You deserve to know. Let's go on a walk, son."

The sand is warm under my toes. "This is where we met." We stand on the beach, looking out at the ocean. A small wooden dock sits at the edge of the water. "He saved my life."

I go on to tell him about helping my dad catch fish and he left me there while he went back to the house for a few minutes to get another net. Leaning over to observe a little fish that swam by, I lost my balance and slipped. I screamed as I splashed into the water. "I didn't know how to swim. I thought I was going to die there. But then a felt arms wrap around me. It was him."

I remember it clearly. I was eight years old. He was ten. The boy dragged me back to the shore. "It's okay. I've got you," he said. I coughed and sputtered, laying in the sand. "What's your name?" he asked.

"That day, he taught me how to swim," I told Finn, who sat next to me dangling his feet in the cool water.

"I didn't see him again for six years, when I saw him walk onto the stage on reaping day." He knows about the Hunger Games. What he doesn't know is that his parents were victors. "I'd never forgotten him. I recognized his name as soon as they said it. He stood up on the stage, straight-faced. He looked so strong," I tell him. "And he won that year, the sixty-fifth."

"My dad was in the Hunger Games?"

"Yes. And so was I," I say. "Five years later, when I was seventeen, I was chosen. Finnick was my mentor. That's when I fell in love with him."

I told him about my time in the arena. "There was an earthquake that caused a flood. All of the remaining tributes then drowned. Since I could swim, I lived. In a way, he saved my life again. I still have nightmares about the Games."

"After that, we were mentors together. He understood me, since we both had gone through the same thing. Slowly, he fell for me too. He was my entire world. I was so scared when he was reaped again for the Quarter Quell. I was too, but Mags, volunteered to take my place," I say.

I continue, telling him about the Games that year, and how he made an alliance with Katniss and Peeta, Johanna Mason, and Beetee and how he, Katniss, and Beetee escaped but the others were captured and tortured by the Capitol, and me as well. I tell him how they got us out and took us to 13. "That was where I married him. It was the happiest day of my life. Then I found out I was pregnant with you. We were thrilled."

"I got the news about his death a few days before you were born," I say sadly. It is quiet for a long time, the sound of crashing waves filling the absence of words. He is the next to speak. What he says surprises me.

"You really loved him."

"Yes," I say, wiping tears off my cheeks. I laugh, for the first time in a long time. "I did. And he loved me too." I kiss his forehead. "He loved you, too. Before you were even born, he loved you so much. You should've seen his face when he found out I was pregnant. You would've loved him too."

"I _do _love him, Mom." He smiles. "I feel like I know him."

I wrap my arms around him, holding him tightly. "I love you."

"I love you too," says Finn.


	2. Chapter 2

**Johanna**

I hide. It's what I do best, I suppose. Hiding and faking weakness is the reason I won the Games. Surely she'd die off eventually, so why bother killing a the little weakling girl from District 7. I wonder if that's what they thought before they all had axes in their heads.

But it seems no matter how well I hide, the nightmares find me anyway. My dead family, the Games, Snow and his army of evil Capitol citizens haunt my dreams. Snow is dead, the Capitol is defeated, the Games are over, and I'm safe here in District 7. Or what Seven used to be, anyway. After the Capitol was destroyed, the Districts were abolished. The former Panem is now made up of small cities. No Districts. So why do I still have nightmares? Maybe I wasn't faking weakness at all.

I sit in bed awake, thinking this through. Sleep remaining far out of reach, I felt my way across the room to the shelves where I keep the special, high-tech, weapons that Beetee made and sent me from 13. My favorite is the ax.

The familiar weight in my hands causes me to grin. I go outside, still clothed in my pajamas. The moon is out, full and bright in the dark sky, and illuminates the earth with a silvery glow. I scamper to the side of the tiny house where I sloppily painted a target. Concentrating on just the ax, the target, everything else in the world disappears. I effortlessly send the weapon spiraling towards the bull's-eye. The ax hits with a satisfying thud, burying itself in the center of the target.

I walk over and yank it out of the side of the house, pleased with myself. After years of chopping down trees and my dad secretly teaching me how to throw them, I've accumulated a skill with axes. I like to think my family is proud of me, looking down on me from wherever you go after you die, but they have no reason to be. I didn't even help bring the Capitol down.

"It's late, you know," a familiar voice says. Tobias steps out of the shadows, flashing me his crooked smile. "Looking good, Johanna."

I look down at my pajamas. "Shouldn't you be in bed then?" I growl, throwing my ax at the target before going over to pull it out.

"I couldn't sleep," he says, brushing off my snide remark. "Apparently you couldn't either."

"What do you want?" I ask, turning towards him.

Tobias is a tall, skinny, man, just a year older than me. We were somewhat friends as kids, before I went to the Games. He lives close by, which proves to make him difficult to avoid. His golden-brown hair is shaggy and long enough that it flops into his eyes, which I can't decide if they are dark, dark brown or black. His cheeks are dotted with freckles. "I decided to go on a walk since I knew trying to sleep was useless. I heard you back here and thought I'd stop by."

"Well isn't that sweet of you," I hiss.

"If you're trying to impress me, you going to have to do better than that," Tobias teases.

"So you think that's what I'm trying to do?" Before he can open his mouth again, I've shoved him to the ground. He tries to speak, but I've surprised him. "Now are you impressed?"

He just looks at me, climbing to his feet. He doesn't answer. That's okay, though, because I wasn't really looking for one anyway. I brush past him, resting the ax on my shoulder. "Now if you'd excuse me."

Once I'm inside, I cover the weapon in its case, tossing it to the floor before slumping into the kitchen and make myself some coffee. I sip the brown, steaming liquid and sigh. _Weakling,_ I think. Here I am again, hiding from the world and drinking coffee. I throw my mug in the sink, listening to the beautiful sound of it shattering as I walk away.

I go into the bathroom and stare at the sink. _Turn it on,_ I command myself. I turn the little knobs until a stream of water floods from the faucet. Slowly and reluctantly, I inch my hands under the cool, wetness, resisting the urge to shrink back. The second I feel the water on my skin, I'm lost in a memory.

I wake up in a tiny, dark room, crumpled on the floor. After I'd refused to answer Snow's questions, a Peacekeeper hit my head with his gun and knocked me unconscious. Now I'm here. What they're about to do to me, I can only guess.

I become faintly aware of the splashing sound coming from my right. _They're going to flood the room,_ I think. _They're going to kill me_.

But they can't kill me. I'm useless to them dead. I'm smart enough to realize they aren't really keeping Peeta or Annie for information, but for a way to target Katniss and Finnick. As far as I know, Enobaria or the Avoxes didn't have any knowledge of the rebel's plans either. But I do, and the Capitol knows it. How else would I have known to cut out Katniss' tracker? If I'm dead, they can't get any information out of me.

The water rises up to my knees. _They can't kill me_, I continue to tell myself as the water gets higher and higher. Soon it's up to my neck. I suck in a breath, expecting my head to submerge but the water stops rising. I tread above the water, waiting. Suddenly, I feel like I'm on fire. I scream, feeling something jolt through me. My skin tingles with electricity. _They can't kill me,_ I repeat. _They can't kill me._

Before I'm shocked again, I'm back in the bathroom. I scramble back, a scream escaping my lips. I sit on the floor, slumped against the wall. Tears race down my cheeks. I sit there for who knows how long. It takes forever it's seems to muster up enough strength to stand up.

It's nearly nine o'clock. I rise and trudge out of the bathroom. After getting dressed, my feet carry me to the front door and I go outside. The cool, fresh air calms me. It smells of pine needles. I walk to the market and buy a cinnamon roll from the bakery, sitting on the bench outside the small store to eat it. It's still warm and it's sweet.

Once I'm finished, I pick up a few more things. Some fresh strawberries from the old lady selling them on the corner and some vegetables from another vendor. Soon, I start home, stepping through the crowd of people.

I'm almost inside when I hear his voice. "Hey," Tobias says.

"Isn't there anyone else in Seven who you could annoy?" I ask.

He laughed. "If I didn't annoy you, who else would you talk too?" He is right. Since I spend most of my time chucking axes against the house or inside of the house, I don't talk to many people.

"I'd rather not talk at all than talk to you," I say before shoving open the door and slamming behind me.

I go into the kitchen and put away the strawberries and vegetables. I hear the door open and angry footsteps following me. It's Tobias. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to barge into someone else's home?" I snarl.

"And didn't yours tell you to be nice to people?"

"My mom is dead," I say coldly. His face is so close to mine I can feel his breath on my face. He's quiet for a long time. My voice pierces through the silence. "Now if you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave me alone."

"You know, there are people who care about you! Did you ever think of that? Are you blind or just too full of yourself to see it?" I answer with a glare. "That's what I thought."

"Get out, Tobias."

"No. Not until you listen to me," he says. "I care about you Johanna. I want you to be happy."

"I have no reason to be happy," I say, "when it will just be taken away from me."

Tobias sighs. "Everyone goes through hell. But that's when you have to build yourself back up again. It's hard. It takes courage."

"Courage is something I don't have."

"I think you do. You just don't see it."

"You're overestimating me. I'm weak," I bark.

"No you aren't. I don't know anyone else who could overcome what you have," says Tobias.

Before I know what's going on, Tobias' lips are pressed to mine. His arms are wrapped around my waist. My entire being is screaming at me to get away from him, to do something but I've lost control. _I want this,_ I tell myself forcefully. My fingers wind themselves in his hair as I smile against his lips.

We both pull away, his arms still holding me close. "I was waiting for you to catch on," he says.

I press my head to his chest.

"I was expecting you to slap me," he says.

"I still could," I say. But I don't.

"You really aren't weak, you know. How many people could survive the Hunger Games twice? How many people could outsmart the Capitol? How many people could withstand the torture you did?" he says. "You are the strongest person I know."


	3. Chapter 3

**Haymitch**

The sun glints in my eyes, reflecting off a crimson-stained ax in the girl from One's hand. Just two of us left. She's covered in blood. So am I. Neither of us can really fight, too injured now. Our time is limited. How much longer can we survive? _You just have to outlive her. Then you can get home._

I stumble towards the cliff. Confused, the girl drags herself along, following me. I find myself at the very edge and stand up, looking her in the eyes, daring her to attack. And she does. I drop to the ground like a stone, the ax whizzing over my head. It vanishes over the side of the cliff.

The ax comes flying back. I hear it enter the girl's skull.

"Haymitch!" a voice shouts. I bolt upright, knife in hand. I'm not in the arena. I'm in my bedroom. The blankets are drenched in sweat, tangled messily. Greasy Sae is standing across the room, a stern look on her face. Since the rebellion, she's been checking in on me everyday, cooking for me and occasionally helping to clean up the place. She even used to help tend to the geese when I was too drunk to stand, but I stopped raising geese several years ago. I think Sae only does it because Katniss and Peeta ask her too.

I groan, rolling my eyes. Reaching over to my nightstand, my fingers find a bottle of beer. Taking a long gulp, I empty its contents. My last bottle. "When is the next train scheduled to arrive?" I slur.

"You're revolting, Haymitch," Sae growls. "Now get up. I made breakfast."

I change my clothes and slump into the kitchen where a heaping plate of eggs waits for me. Greasy Sae drops a squirrel carcass on the table as I shovel food into my mouth. "Katniss brought it by for you."

I respond with a grunt and continue eating. The old woman sighs and sits down across from me. "Haymitch," she says, "President Paylor called. She's stopping by."

"What does she want?" I ask nonchalantly, taking a sip of coffee.

"She didn't say. She'll be here at two." She tosses me a blue shirt and a pair of pants. "You need a shower." Without another word she leaves. I shrug, finishing my breakfast and doing as she says. I scrub away the grime and dirt and get dressed. I even comb my hair.

There's a knock on the door and I go to answer it. "Come in," I say to the woman at the door. I lock it behind her.

"It's been a long time, Haymitch," Paylor says simply. She's dressed in a simple white shirt and black pants. It's been several years since I've seen her in person, but she hasn't changed except for her more tired looking eyes and a few small streaks of silver that have appeared in her dark hair. She is still a beautiful woman. We walk down the hall to the kitchen. She sits down at the table and I pour us both some coffee. "I'm sorry about the late notice."

"What do you want, Paylor?" I ask, leaning back in my chair.

She sighs. "One of the members of my council was shot last week. They died the following day. Now there is an opening and we need another member to take her place."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"You were chosen to fill the spot," she says.

"You're kidding me!" I exclaim.

"I'm afraid not. Trust me, you wouldn't be my choice. No offence."

I can't believe this. "Why in the hell would they choose me? I'm clearly not a good person for this. Have Katniss do it. She's already proven her worth. She's a leader. Just find someone else."

"Haymitch, are you aware of how we pick new council members?" Paylor asks.

I laugh. "Do I look like the type of person who would know that?" I snort.

She takes a deep breath. She's loosing her patience. "If a current member leaves the council, for any reason, it is the remaining members' job to choose a replacement," she explains. "If I approve, and the person accepts, they become a member. You were chosen."

"It looks like you have a problem them. You won't approve, and I'm not going to accept." I stand up agitatedly and start to leave.

Paylor looks up at me. "Actually I would approve," she says surely, "on one condition. I understand you have a strong… fondness of alcohol."

I roll my eyes, irritated.

"If you could promise not to drink, I think you'd make a great leader."

"But that's just it you see, Mrs. Paylor. That isn't going to happen," I retort.

"And why is that, Haymitch?" she challenges.

"I drink because I want to keep the nightmares away."

Paylor sighs, nodding. "I understand."

Rage boils inside me. How could she say such a thing? "You don't understand!" I scream. "You weren't forced to go into an arena and kill people who wanted to get home just as badly as you did! You weren't in the Games, Paylor! You will _never_ understand!"

"I was not in the Games," Paylor started slowly, "but my sister was. I was five years old. I'd have thought you would've remembered. She was in the arena with you."

I wade through the all too familiar memories of my time in the Games. I remember seeing her as I watched the Reapings. My mind falls upon an image of a small girl from District 8, her name lingering in the air as the crowd parted silently around her. She looked more like a ten year old than a twelve year old. She had same dark brown hair and coffee colored hair. Her name was Delilah.

There was a scream, piercing the soundless square. "Delilah!" A young girl burst out from swarm of people, sobbing and throwing her arms around the new tribute – her sister. She looked just like her.

"Let go," she said calmly. "Go find Mom and Dad." She broke away from the young girl's clinging grasp and made her way to the stage to join the other three tributes. There were twice the tributes that year, two boys and two girls from each district, for the Quarter Quell.

I remember the girl well. She was small, but she was quick and very clever. I was impressed with her skill. My mind shows me another image of Delilah, on the plate, poised to run as soon as the gong sounded. She reached the Cornucopia before anyone else and was gone just as quickly. I didn't see her again until her picture was projected across the sky. She was one of the final seven tributes.

"I'm sorry," I'm finally able to say. "I didn't know."

She nods. "I know you didn't." She asks me, eyes full of thought, "Does drinking help your nightmares, Haymitch?"

"Yeah," I admit. "When I'm drunk, I'm not coherent enough to have nightmares. It's like there's nothing. I can _escape._"

She does not speak for a long time. What she says next surprises me. "I think I know why they chose you. Despite you being an alcoholic, you have so much experience. You survived the Games, and mentored so many after that-"

"And where did they end up?" I snarl. "They're all _dead._"

"That isn't true. Katniss and Peeta both made it out. Twice. You also helped destroy the Capitol. You said Katniss was a good leader? You were one of the things that shaped Katniss into the leader she is," she adds. "You did all that. That is, in my eyes, a spectacular accomplishment. So Haymitch, will you accept my offer?"

I think for a moment. I realize what she says is true, that I've accomplished more than I've given myself credit for all of these years. Paylor seems to think I'm capable of being a council member, and so do the other members. But do I truly believe that I can do this?

"Yes," I say.

()

The train slowly creeps along the track, rolling into the station with a screech. Katniss and Peeta said their goodbyes earlier this morning at the Victor's Village so only Sae stands beside me. I turn to face the old woman, her gray hair pulled into a long rope. She puts her hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. "Good luck, Haymitch," she says. I hug her tightly, and she only hesitates for a second before returning the gesture.

"Thank you," I say, "for everything." Taking breath, I step onto the train, dragging my small suitcase behind me.

I go to my room and watch my home fade away, getting smaller and smaller with the distance. "Goodbye," I whisper.

()

The soft howl of the train whistle wakes me. Somehow, I slept the entire night – something I haven't done since I was fifteen years old. No nightmares.

I peer out the window and see my new home, Spero, or what was once the Capitol. I'm told it means hope in an old language. A fitting name I think. I haven't been here since the rebellion. It's changed a lot since then. In fact, I hardly recognize the place.

After the Capitol was destroyed, Panem was changed entirely. The District system was abandoned. Now it's just one country, with several cities, governed by its officials in Spero. All of the Capitol was demolished, new buildings, new leaders, everything. It's beautiful.

Paylor greets me at the train station. "Good to see you again, Haymitch," she says. The two of us slide into the backseat of a car. The last time I rode in a car was the day I was chosen in the Reaping. "I hope your trip here was pleasant."

"It was," I reply.

"Haymitch," says Paylor. "I want to thank you for doing this. I know it was a difficult decision for you, but I know you will be a great leader." She plants a gentle kiss on my cheek.

()

The moment I walk through the door of the Council Building, a deafening roar fills the air. Clapping. They're clapping. What is going on? I make my way into the room, looking around. It occurs to me that their applause is for me. The entire council, all twenty-three members, the representatives from the main cities, and the other officials are all on their feet clapping for me.

For the first time in what seems like forever, I smile. A real, genuine smile.


End file.
